


Home.

by Sirius_Romanogers



Category: AU - Fandom, Captain America, Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Romanogers - Fandom
Genre: Bucky needs a hug, F/M, Fluff, Oneshot, Poor Bucky, Post Captain America Winter Soldier, Post-Winter Soldier, Unresolved Sexual Tension, steve rogers - Freeform, the winter soldier is cold
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-08-28
Packaged: 2018-04-17 16:12:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4673057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sirius_Romanogers/pseuds/Sirius_Romanogers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky escapes Hydra and he latched  to someone familiar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home.

**Author's Note:**

> Might be continued depending on how well it's received, enjoy!

She drags her feet along the wooden panels out of exhaustion, barely acknowledging the maids hello or the rookie agents look of awe, she's tired, almost knocked out and even the idea of having a warm bath seems too draining. Today was one of those Thursday's when Steve was still out, probably bearing down on ex S.H.I.E.L.D agents that traded freedom for Hydra whilst he gave a long and somehow effective speech, at least that's what she'd like to think he was doing, which he probably was. He'd been kind enough to allow her to live with him for the time being, all of her safe houses in the state were exposed and she hadn't had the time to find another one. She opted for the lift instead of the stairs, making her way sluggishly to her suite and lazily unlocking the door before securing it behind her, soon enough she began her usual routine of slipping off her gear, the belt first as that was most uncomfortable then her boots, kicking them to the side and stretching with little effort.

35 hour missions were definitely tiring, but that given hygiene was still a top priority, especially when you've not washed in over a day. So she trudged to get a towel and a change of clothing before slipping out of her catsuit and into the shower.

As soothing as the warm water was after adding a bit of soap her whole body stung as she began scrubbing slowly at her arms to remove dried blood upon scarred wounds and lifting grime away from her hair,the tiny cuts biting at her nerves, her tensed muscles relaxed partially, giving her a moment to sigh in slight contentment. She stared blankly at the lather than gathered at her feet and sighed once more.

After finding herself nodding off on the floor of the shower, Natasha decided that perhaps going to bed right about now would be great, after getting dried off, she began to blow dry her firey locks after pulling on one of Steve's T-shirts which seemed to be the only clean items of clothing she could find and a pair of runner shorts. Disturbing her moment of serenity was a loud thud, one that sounded clumsy, tired. But why would Steve go through a window when he has a key? her instinct to grab her loaded S.H.I.E.L.D gun kicked, leaning ever so slightly on the door to try and listen, silence.

Likely an assassin, she let out a frustrated sigh, if they were planning to take her out, couldn't they have done this earlier?

Taking in a breath she opened the door, glad it hadn't creaked like it usually would and kept her pistol close to her , leaning carefully round the corner she noticed the door to one of the bedrooms was open, so maybe it was a burglar instead. Lightly stepping over her discarded clothes from earlier she tip toed to her room, rounding the corner swiftly, her gun right on target.

"Step away from the drawer," yet the man didn't move, a silver arm glinting in the moonlight that streamed through the curtains, highlighting a bright red star, a symbol that the woman had seen all too many times in her life, Slowly the man turned, grey eyes panicked, confused, lost. "Natalia?" His voice shaking with an intake of breath as his eyes examine her, squinting in disbelief.

She froze, watching him with caution, gun still pointed, which the man finally acknowledged. "Please don't," he airs calmly, still seemingly confused as to why she was threatening him, as if he hadn't just broken into her home.

"Why are you here?" She asked, her glare pointed and stern, switching off the safety on her weapon. "You have 2 minutes" she bluffed, observing whether her takes that in, but his eyes seemed almost glazed, he tried hard to see her but he's looking through her.

"Barnes." Her voice brings him back and his eyes seem brighter, "I'm cold," He mumbled letting Natasha step closer, her gun now holstered, she reaches out a hand and he flinched before her finger tips settle on his cheeks. He really was cold. The hand of his silver arm tried to touch her cheek, he shakes.

She disappeared a few moments later, returning with a first aid kit and quickly tends to his fresh gash above his left eyebrow with antiseptic wipes, brushing his hair that reached just past his chin out of the way. His eyes follow her as she packs the kit away and makes her way into the kitchen, heading for the fridge hoping she could find some food that hadn't expired, unfortunately she and Steve had barely shopped, ingredients were all that remained.

She then returned to the bedroom and beckoned for him to follow her, his eyes had glazed again and he barely noticed her presence, when he does he draws his gun seconds before realising what he was doing and dropping it to the floor. She watched him with suspicion then held out her hand, he reached and latched on, his metal pinched her skin slightly but she didn't mind, he was a friend of Steve's regardless if only a few months ago he'd been trying to kill them both.

She led him through the apartment's open plan kitchen/living room and to the bathroom, sitting him on the edge of the bath. She tugs at his armoured vest which was covered in a variety of pistols, revolvers, blades, semi automatics and even a rifle on his back strap, she motions at them with her free hand, he hadn't let her other one go.

He stared blankly at the woman in front of him until she began slowly un-arming him herself, though he protested quietly he soon gave in to her light, nimble fingers, letting her other hand go finally. He seemed perplexed at what the other spy was trying to achieve by disarming him in such a simple way, in a few minutes every weapon that had been attached to his vest was now laid carefully on the tile floor of the bathroom.

Natasha stood back, impressed by how so many weapons had been placed and hidden, "Remind me to ask Fury for one of those," she mutters, a small grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. Bucky remains expressionless in his facial features, his eyes on the other hand showed a glimmer of amusement which goes as quickly as it came, at sight of this the Russian smiles sadly before running her hands gently up the bullet proof material of the vest, finding a zip she began to unclothe him cautiously, her eyes focused, unaware of the stare sent her way by the man she was now undressing.

Possible lust in his gaze, which he didn't seem to understand, Natasha continued her effort in getting the vest off of him, eventually undoing the last buckle she signaled for him to lift his arms while she pulled the amour off him. This revealed a broad and built physique, his muscles well toned and defined, in fact he was almost perfect, those grey eyes seemed larger now -with just a hint of blue, more innocent, the sight of his body was very much attractive but her eyes were drawn to his left shoulder, there she saw the place at which metal was joined to flesh, in what looked to be a painful way.

The edges of the joint were raw and irritated -most likely by the suit he'd been wearing all the time- he watched her with tired eyes, as if taking off the amour had drained him of energy, but fear shone through the grey and Romanov sighed once more out of sympathy before standing herself up again.

She laid a towel on his lap and turned on the shower head, grabbing a bar of soap and creating a lather before going at Bucky's skin, she scrubbed gently and somewhat slowly, his body was somewhat foreign, she couldn't tell where his aches and pains were located but guessed her same spots anyway, massaging him with soft touch, letting him lean his head lightly on one of her arms while the other hand cleaned the area around his metal carefully. He gave out a small groan of discomfort so Natasha slowed down, barely even touching the sore area of his shoulder and letting the suds run over it instead.

She let the suds lift the dirt up and away from the open cuts on his body, running her hand down in a scrub on his large arms and finally using a sponge to clean his tightened abdomen and chest. He still shivers though warm water runs from the shower head. Leaning his head on her shoulder while she rinses his metal arm again, trying to get the soap off the gashes to relive stinging, his wet hair dampens t-shirt but she doesn't mind, Steve would rather a wet shirt than a cold Bucky, who nuzzles her for warmth causing a smile to break her concentrated face.

She began to wipe away soap with a damp face towel and after a few minutes the showers over, his trousers still on but he seems more comfortable than before, taking a large soft towel, Natasha dabs away the water and slowly massages his body, arms, shoulders, back, and dries his scruffy hair, he's still watching her during all of this but his expression changed, he seemed more relaxed, the fear replaced with slight anxiety yes, but his shoulders loosened and the tension gradually left his body as Romanov's hands soothed some muscle cream into his skin.

She then takes one of her combs and runs it through his now clean hair at a leisurely pace.Letting him rest his forehead on her shoulder while the teeth of the comb rub against his scalp, she kneads his neck mildly to loosen the knots that must've built up there but pulls away the moment she feels lips on skin, she couldn't let him. He wasn't in the right state of mind, no, it wouldn't be fair to him.

She stood, her hand waving to tell him to follow her again, she'd missed him, it'd been so long . So to distract herself she pulled out her phone and dialed a number she used many times when she was exhausted, four large pizzas were now on their way to the apartment, or at least we're being made, said to arrive in 30 minutes to an hour, she bet an hour and a half. Setting her mobile on the kitchen island she turned her attention back to the soldier/assassin who didn't know what to do with himself so he'd plonked his body down onto the couch.

Natasha walked quietly to the airing cupboard and from there produced two thick blankets, handing one to Bucky and placing the other on the couch end.Wrapping it around him she looked closely at his face, a handsome face, with piercing eyes, strong jaw and enticing lips.

She found it a shame that he'd barely recognised her, or even remembered what they had, her hand instinctively rubbed at his stubble covered chin, letting her fingertips slide up his face she traced his features, nose, jaw, lips, ears-a cold strong metallic hand hooking onto her wrist loosely, Bucky's other hand cupping her face as he searched her eyes. "Natalia, it's been so long," He uttered sadly, stroking her soft skin under his fingers and his eyes dart to her lips.

"I know," Natasha breathed, strained, her masks cracking, her lungs felt empty, her eyes blurred with tears. "I'm sorry," She whispered, he looked at her perplexed,

"Sorry? For what?"

"I wish I could'v-"

And at that moment the door opened, a shield thrown to the ground with a clang and Natasha turned, to the man standing at the doorway "You okay, Nat? Sorry I'm-" his eyes darted to the man with the silver arm as he locked the door behind him.

"Bucky?"

"Steve?!"


End file.
